


Consider

by NomadicRex



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Cuddling, Drabbles, M/M, Violence, lolix, lots of jumbled lolix, mercenaries being mercenaries, odd stories, partners, prompts, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2202090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NomadicRex/pseuds/NomadicRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various stories of Locus and Felix according to prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consider

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse any poor grammar, writing, attempts at humor, and romanticized little shits.

Found on Tumblr.  
  
Consider your OTP...

 

 

**“one making awful breakfast for the other and the other eating it because they appreciate it that much”**

  
  


Locus has survived many trials in his lifetime. Alien invasions, war, invasive surgery and space travel where one malfunction could kill you in an instant. His track record of “not dying” can be spelled out in the scars littering his body. A true resume of his work and his dedication to this life. He's walked three miles with half his arm hanging to his knee and took a land mine to the chest for a fellow soldier. Not to brag, but he's been shot in the face and still beat his opponent to death , at this point, Locus has doubted that many things could kill him.

  
  


Whatever concoction Felix has just served for breakfast reminds Locus of his all too inescapable mortality.

  
  


It's morning on their first night in the newly acquired safe house. Shielded by bustling surroundings and a metropolis too busy to notice the arrival of two mercenaries trying to stay out of sight. Two years of traveling and establishing the first flickers of a reputation, they were both tired and sore and in desperate need of a break. Felix was the one to suggest the safe house with a very specific “we're going to do this thing” look in his eyes. So they did, some spit of an apartment where they could stash supplies in trick walls and stay low. Furnished with only kitchen needs, a couch missing two cushions and a bed Felix covered in as many pillows as he could afford on the budget Locus gave him. It was small and uncomfortable. The bathroom faucet only worked half the time and they could hear outdated pipes groan at night after a heavy rain. But. Felix bought a cheap door mat which read “welcome” and “get out” depending on the angle and dubbed it “home” so it was home. The first one Locus could claim in many years.

  
  


It was their first morning at “home” that Felix had announced he would be preparing breakfast. The first home cooked meal Locus would have...in his life unless one counted the time their Superior Officer brought in oven ready casseroles. In their travels he'd only seen Felix reheat prepackaged food or choke down freeze dried military rations. Otherwise Locus was uncomfortable leaving his partner with an open stove top, but he had to take a small leap of faith. (And he'd stayed asleep much longer than planned burrowed between four massive pillows Felix had slipped in under budget)

  
  


Years eating cold packs, following a conservative diet and his first real meal turned out to be Felix's interpretation of smoking road kill. The plate set before him was mostly a seared gray, with slivers of green and black. Unknown flecks of red speckled the unappealing meal and while it all smelled vaguely of overcooked food-Locus' mind refused to acknowledge even the slightest possibility that the smallest bite wouldn't kill him. Which just further proved Locus' thoughts on always listening to his first instinct which had SCREAMED “No” when Felix crawled over him and asked for money for groceries. He was all at once furious and exhausted wondering why he'd thought to trust Felix to do this right. To prepare a meal that would be acceptable after their years of work, something to help celebrate their first well deserved break! He could probably strangle the man who stood at his elbow, waiting impatiently for Locus to try the horror on his plate as if it were some masterpiece of...

  
  


Dammit.

  
  


In his agitation Locus had forgotten one simple fact. Felix was there too, these past few years. Time spent scrounging for work and taking any scum level job that came their way. Splitting meals and spilling blood evenly between one another. Weeks spent in the same hardships, with similar wounds and doubts on whether leaving earth was the best idea they'd made. He was angry with Felix, for being proud of probably the first meal the little shit has probably ever had to prepare, and it was for Locus.

  
  


Dammit.

  
  


“You hate it.” Felix finally spoke, deflating in a manner which meant he was about to start throwing things at Locus' head to feel better about the world.

  
  


“No.” Locus was quick, but not eager to answer while pulling the frowning man down to sit on one leg. Smooth pale legs in contrast to his own gouged and scarred limbs. Letting Felix straddle his thigh and watch as Locus dared take the first bite. Reminding himself as the fork neared his teeth that this was his partner, trying to be a civilian, just for him. Trying to make their first day away from their ship and their new found profession, real. He chewed as Felix draped himself against a shoulder, picking at the short hair on Locus' neck to annoy him. “It's good.”

  
  


He wasn't lying.

  
  


Even if it tasted like burnt oil and was saturated in cayenne pepper. The horrendous taste was soothed by nosing at Felix's bright hairline, a small comfort in their lives, and reminding himself what this meal meant for them. While disgusting, chewy and foul...It was still the most delicious meal he'd ever had in his life.

  
  


He wanted Felix to be proud of that.

  
  


“It's good.” His bit Felix on the cheek and let the man brag about his culinary skills while Locus ate and nodded on as if not entirely ignoring him.

  
  


The scene didn't last long after Felix tried a bite himself then threw the plate to the floor. Cursing Locus out for “bad taste” and ordering take out from a shop down the road. It was the last time Felix cooked and Locus tried not to be so obviously relieved by that.

  
  


+

  
  


**“one putting their ridiculous music on in the car and singing along while the other sits in the passenger seat with their head in their hands”**

  
  


Felix just wants to die.

  
  


He's begged the universe to come swallow him whole, spare him of this misery, but still he suffers. This is the end, he knows it. Heart and soul can't continue on with this torture and soon he will dismantle. Unravel like a splintering rope until there's nothing left of him but the remains of a once sane man. Death would be a blessing, a gift, salvation and he would weep if he knew how to shed tears anymore. He would cry if that part of him capable of earnest feeling hadn't shriveled up and died as a result of this torture.

  
  


Locus is making it worse by turning up the volume with a knowing glance and Felix can feel the sound penetrate deeper into his body trying to suffocate him.

  
  


“Oh my god stop it!” Felix lets out a cry and head falls into hands, whining with the ferocity of a child. He even kicks his legs twice before Locus knocks him in the shoulder.

  
  


“Stop complaining. It's my turn.”

 

“Your turn suuuuucks!” He drags out the word because Locus hates when he brutalizes vocabulary with excessive tones and it's the only defense he has. “It should ALWAYS be my turn!” Trapped in the passenger seat with no hope of escape as Locus remembered to put the child locks on. Fuck him. They should have bought an all terrain vehicle without a roof so he could crawl out and find sanctuary from whatever mess Locus insisted on playing. “What is this, how old is this? Why does this still exist!” He kicked the dashboard and sent all forms of bad thoughts in the direction of his partner who remained calm and aloof to his plight. “There's a reason the people who were alive during this period are all dead now Locus.”

  
  


“It's called Opera. I've told you before, this is Bizet's work of..”

  
  


“It's called crap.” Locus' intelligent response was to turn the volume up once more, a move Felix knows he'll eventually regret. Locus hates loud music and they're still two hours from their next job site driving by compass alone through an empty desert. Suns beating down, adding to the overall discomfort of the experience. “Why are you doing this to me? Is it because of the french toast incident? Look I said I was sorry,” No he didn't, but maybe Locus won't remember that. “There's no need to drag it out. You're a better man than that Locus.” Some soul wrenching arrangement of instruments suddenly blared from the speakers and Locus' fingers tapped along with accompanying (banshee like) vocals. Felix could almost see him smile from behind the helmet and if Locus tries to sing along Felix will actually shoot the vehicle and pray they go out in a fiery craze.

  
  


This job sucks.

  
  


Only a dessert colony, Locus, and his classical fucking “music”.

  
  


Felix wants to die.

  
  


“You suck.” Tossed in one last insult before collapsing on his legs, trying to hide from the shrieking women and whatever gyrating mess constituted as entertainment exactly one million trillion years ago. “And I hate you.”

  
  


Locus answered only by reaching over to pat Felix's tangled hair.

  
  


+

  
  


**“the two of them going down to the beach and one getting sunburned really badly so the other slathers them with aloe gel when they get home”**

  
  


They left him strung up on the beach for hours, enough to kill in the unrelenting suns. But Locus was a difficult man to kill and come nightfall he still remained conscious long enough to warn Felix on the land mines surrounding his crucifix. Only when he felt Felix's voice against his temple did he deem it safe enough to fall into the dark and let his partner handle it from there.

  
  


He was informed of their successful job later, Felix having stopped the marauding band of desert “pirates” picking off the caravan colony on the dustball little planet. It wasn't a difficult job really. Shouldn't have been. Locus perched high on a rock formation picking off any rat who tried to escape Felix's perfectly executed ambush. It was a simple job until Locus missed the scout who shot an armor piercing taser into his spine and he went down. The remaining members of the band were polite enough to wake him up just in time to strip him down and beat him for a few cheap hours. At least until they decided what to do with him.

 

Which was strap him to a metal cross and leave him in the rising sun to die.

  
  


Locus stayed awake counting down to when Felix would arrive. Marking off seconds, minutes, hours in his mind to keep alive, keep focused on something beyond the pain of ones skin literally being cooked on your bones.

  
  


Once Felix brought him to the safety of their ship there was no more distraction and everything simply burned.

  
  


Felix was as careful as he could be, working around the worst damage and trying not to touch more than was necessary. Locus had already refused a morphine injection, stating they couldn't waste their supplies for something so “simple” and ignored Felix's bitching. Half aware of his partner moving around him, slowing falling back into blissful unconscious while every nerve and patch of marred skin screamed in agony. The swift snipping of dead skin and Felix's small noises of concern and disgust were somehow louder than the cries Locus felt in his bones. Alert to only his partner's presence, the chemical burn of medication and the sharp scent of aloe and salves as they were applied to his skin. Steady fingers gentle at his lips, commenting on “how tan” Locus was going to be. A weak joke to make the reality easier on Felix. Locus let it go without comment, mostly because speaking might actually rip a sob out of him.

  
  


He only asked with a look, behind heavy lids and bandages as Felix completed his treatment. No need to inquire on whether Felix had accomplished the mission. He knew he did, else Locus would still be on that cross until Felix had been victorious. A different question crossed the look between them and Felix bent low at the neck, hovering just over skin scorched and ruined from one mistake.

  
  


“Well I didn't have time to build a cross, but don't worry partner, they suffered.”

  
  


+

  
  


**“one getting home from work later than the other and stretching out on top of them like a big lazy cat while they sit on the couch in front of the tv”**

  
  


  
  


Felix heard the door to the apartment open despite most of his attention consumed by the television. Some small thing to match the cramped living space of their safe house. He could barely make out the images and half the speakers were shot so one was required to put a full effort into focusing on the ragged screen and the quivering sound to get anything out of a program. By now he had Locus' foot steps memorized. The way his partner would always kick off his boots at the door and leave anything he carried behind the low table they'd bought for eating meals. (Still mostly ate sitting knee to knee on the bedroom floor though.) Then Locus would then make his way to the narrow bedroom and take a shower before making a meal or stopping to bitch at Felix for being a lazy bastard. To which Felix would just smile in response and ask about dinner.

 

It was how Locus always came home from solo jobs. This one he'd been gone for a month and Felix would never admit to having slept on that couch for the past three weeks.

  
  


So of course his partner didn't do any of this and instead dropped whatever he carried inside by the door and made his way into the modest living room. Felix had little time to prepare before Locus in all his masculine glory (aka heavy ass self) stepped onto the couch and proceeded to lay himself out over top his partner. Felix squawked in return, fighting hands on the backs of his thighs, manipulating his limbs to better fit. Locus dug his chin into the side of Felix's throat and tucked arms beneath his torso, clutching him too tightly that Felix had to shift for air. Locus reeked of fired ammunition and armor stained sweat. His hair, usually kept short, was beginning to grow in unruly tufts and there was more beard around Locus' chin than Felix knew how to deal with.

  
  


It had only been a month. They'd been apart longer than that before. There was no reason for...this. No reason even if they'd been apart for a hundred times longer. This was not their normal way of doing things. This was, new. This was, slightly terrifying at how much Felix loved it.

  
  


“I'm watching that show you hate.” He neatly whispered so as not to disturb the man comfortable on top of his spine like a panther taking a nap on his latest meal.

  
  


Felix received a low grunt in return.

  
  


“Yea you too.” He turned to ghost his lips on the only part of Locus he could reach and returned to his show with a careful smile across his face.

  
  


He kicked Locus off once the man started snoring, but that was ok since Locus later commented that he was going to buy Felix a television the size of a billboard.

  
  


+

  
  


**“one inexplicably bringing home an animal and refusing to drop it at the shelter so they and the other have to take care of it”**

  
  


“No.”

  
  


Felix smiled.

  
  


“No.”

  
  


Felix smiled wider.

 

“Felix. I said no.”

  
  


Felix rubbed his face into the belly of the...thing.

  
  


“Felix.”

  
  


The thing let out a horrible squeal and tried to bite Felix on the nose.

  
  


“Felix. No.”

  
  


“Felix yes and Felix already did.”

  
  


And that's how they ended up being the only mercenaries in the galaxy with a pet Pomeranian named Cash.

  
  


+

  
  


**“the both of them going out to a park and getting ice cream to sit with and eat on a bench”**

  
  


 

 

Felix had a problem with destructive tendencies. Easy to trap himself on a thought, obsess, then lash out at whatever was nearest to his person. Usually when he got like this he was on a job, which helped. Knowing you were supposed to kill someone made it easier to do so and also was a grand stress relief. In that moment it didn't matter who or what this person was or whether they deserved to live or die. It didn't matter if his client was a good guy with kids or if they were the scum of the universe and Felix was playing a villain in aiding them. All that mattered in that moment was snuffing out a life and feeling, maybe a little bit better about his own in the meantime.

 

Unfortunately there were times when business was slow. When Locus and he would slink off to their safe house in the bustling city where they were concealed among the noise and obscurities which clung to city life. Unfortunately there were times when when Felix was trapped inside himself and there wasn't any distraction. Times where he found himself sitting on their lopsided couch in the quiet of a cramped apartment and twisting hands until they bruised across the knuckles to prevent himself from, something worse. Until at least when Locus caught him and gave him something to do that was a little less destructive.

 

Locus and he were an interesting pair. “The unmovable object and the unstoppable force” was how their late commanding officer Nelson described them. She had always been a romantic and believed the two would be great friends if they only spent more time together. Felix was a front man, a thing of action. It was the reason he was so damn good at his post, always eager to seek out the action and react accordingly. Spot decisions were his specialty while Locus was a sniper. Cold and removed. He liked information and planning. Tactics and strategy built over the course of time. Felix was NOW Locus was Later and their CO was the only one trying to force them to get along. The others had just accepted their scout and sniper were always going to feud. So how they ended up here, years later in shared space, depending on one another for survival? Not sure. Probably has something to do with that last battle.

 

They call it, the “bloodiest battle of earth” and Felix despises it. It's like referring to someone's entire family dying as “that really bad day”. As if the rest of the world held a right to share in that pain. Locus gave up stopping Felix from thrashing anyone who brought up that battle as if they understood the nightmare. The way he explained it was that he was simply allowing Felix to protect his past, which Felix found hilarious considering they were both men who no longer had last names. Locus didn't even have a first name, though Felix still called him by it when he really wanted to start a fight. Even back in the army Locus had denied his first name and no one had a problem with it, not even Felix. He was more concerned with the unspoken rivalry between them. Outdoing Locus. Beating Locus. Proving he was better.

 

Now they sleep in the same bed and use each other like their own skin. Felix chewing on Locus' wrist when he feels ignored and Locus manhandling Felix as he pleases when he's restless. It's a strange symbiotic relationship which developed in every way painful over their past years together. Their hatred for one another shifting somewhere along the way from “I am better than you” to “I can keep you alive”. It's all survival and Felix is damn good at that.

 

But there are moments when he forgets to be alive. Where he loses himself staring into idle space while flashes of the past come crawling up over his eyes and his mouth tastes like copper and soot. When he'll be reaching for a carton of eggs at the grocery store and suddenly he's back on the battlefield holding a severed arm and unsure how to move while the world falls apart around him. Locus has gotten really, very good at these moments. From knowing when to leave Felix under the bed while he has a fit to walking up behind him and lifting him at the waist to carry out of the grocery store. Locus has even gotten in the habit of purchasing small, worthless things for Felix to break when the mood strikes him. A small plastic doll here, a cheap hand fan to rip there. Something Felix can sit down and focus on breaking apart piece by piece until the original item is then unrecognizable. Until Felix can stand on his own to throw away the bits and pieces and seek out Locus. Wrap arms from around his waist and chew on his shoulder until the man pays attention to him. Until his partner fucks him on whatever surface seems best and they can't move-so Locus has to order dinner from Felix's favorite shop and the delivery boy stares in shock at the bruises around Felix's neck.

 

It, overall, wasn't a bad life actually.

 

The hard times only rising up in Felix's skin when there was nothing to distract him. No one to kill, nothing to steal or protect. No work and nothing else but the life of a civilian Locus and he never manged to be. Most people would assume that Felix was the saner of the two, all things considered. But oh, oh they would be wrong and Felix revels in the misdirection. His big, scary partner making him look like the lesser of two evils.

 

Felix knew how to play. He knew how to charm and trick and work his silver tongue deep into the mind of whatever poor target they were sent after. Locus was terrible with human interaction while Felix could convince near anyone that the sky was falling. It was part of the job and part of what kept the bad thoughts at bay. So when that was removed, when lying and weaving his delicate webs was no longer necessary, it turned walking through the park on their way home into an anxious mess of skittish nerves and paranoid thinking. His default state of “everything is trying to kill me” kicking into high gear and Felix hated Locus with all his might for not taking a taxi from the airfield like usual when they returned to Earth for their downtime. Locus had just mentioned that the weather was “nice” and started walking off down the road, leaving Felix to struggle after. Complaining all the way about Locus' descent into madness and multiple threats to not follow him home as he cut through the park. Locus of course did not fear any of these and continued on his merry fucking way until Felix was a rigid mess at his right trying not to make eye contact with any humans. Out of fear they might recognize him for the brutal mess he was and his game would be over.

 

Damn Locus. He just wanted to be home, safe in their territory where playing civilian was all about getting Locus off in inappropriate situations and sleeping on the couch all day. Not, this. Not being outside. If they were anywhere else but earth, dressed in armor and not casual city dweller clothes, Felix would be fine. Right now he was about to have a nervous break down and Locus, his unfazed mountain of a partner, would have to stop him from killing something.

 

The entire situation just got worse when Locus sidestepped to the left and Felix watched in twisted horror as the man purchased fucking /ice cream/ from a street vendor. Mint chocolate chip for himself and handed Felix the butter pecan like it was the most normal fucking thing to do. Felix reflected back on their last jobs and struggled to date exactly when Locus had lost his damn mind. Clearly Felix had missed when the deterioration had begun and that was on him, standing now like a fool with a canvas pack in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other.

 

“Do you want to sit on the bench?” Locus asked, motioning with his freckled black and green dessert to a colorful bench where children played nearby.

 

“Are you fucking high?” A mother flinched and was quick to usher her child away from the two men obstructing the walkway with their idle forms. He didn't even have a chance to feel a terrible sense of pride over that and he blamed Locus for it! Ice cream melted over Felix's knuckles as he scowled and hoped one day he'd be able to see Locus licking a creamy treat and not want to punch him in the face. “What are you even doing?” Felix whined and stepped to the side to allow an elderly couple to walk past, hands clutched and glowing warm like sunshine. Locus studied the couple and Felix was ready to smack his partner with the ice cream cone if he so much as tried to reach for his hand.

 

“You don't like this?” He asked, clearly referring to the meandering lives of what Felix truly considers zombies. The lives of people who survived alien invasions and government corruption only to continue living as soulless worms devoid of any real ambition or meaning. There was only one word Felix used as a true insult. Civilian. It carried the weight of all his disdain and revolt as vast as an ocean of sludge and shrapnel. “You don't want this?” The glare he fixed on Locus screamed “why the fuck would I want this world of colorless, wasted sacks of flesh and meat when we have a life in the stars doing whatever we fucking like”? It was the only response he could manage beyond shoving his ice cream cone into his partner's eye.

 

They stood there, staring at one another as if Locus were trying to decrypt some code and drawing a new form of discomfort up Felix's spine. It was abrupt when Locus went from suspicious and doubtful to satisfied. Even muttered a “good” under his breath. throwing away his cone and began the trek back to their apartments. Ignoring all which just transpired between them. Even going as far as to snap for him to “hurry”.

 

Felix caught up with all the grace of a drunken viper, smacking into the man with his side and making sure to smear the melting treat on Locus' jacket. Of course Locus seemed confused by his brewing tantrum but did not stop to acknowledge him further. Just kept a brisk pace and tried to avoid more dairy attacks.

 

“All that, just to check that I wasn't what? Going to one day leave you for this life?” It was meant to be a joke but by the smallest increase of the frown Locus always seemed to be wearing, Felix was startled to know he'd gotten that right. Well. Go him. “Oh my god.” He gaped, suddenly uplifted from the sour mood by this new development.

 

Their relationship was never anything else beyond “partner” because to them, a partner was everything. It explained the dependency on one another, the trust and loyalty. The fucking and physical benefits were just that, benefits of their partnership. It had always been a possibility that either of them would branch off, screw someone else or even have the right to be with someone if the situation ever became...possible. Felix had just never considered the possibility before because it seemed so outrageous. NO one could keep him alive like Locus and NO one would ever know how to keep Locus alive like Felix. Any other opportunity was ludicrous and holy shit, Locus was actually worried Felix would leave him one day.

 

He didn't feel terrible for laughing. He didn't feel terrible either for the look of pure untamed anger mixed with just enough embarrassment crossing his partner's face.

 

“You're such a romantic Locus.”

 

“Don't make me break you in public. I don't feel like dealing with the mess.” Felix surprised Locus by switching around hands so he could grab Locus' hanging quietly at his side. Suddenly curious about the act of affection and causing the sniper to frown in something more than confusion but less than disgust. It was a good look on him. It was similar to how Locus tries not to look when Felix wears his clothes or how he admires the collar of bruises he leaves across Felix's skin for their pleasure. It was...like a claim. Like ownership of one another simply by taking hold of what was yours and it took everything in his power not to start singing an outdated love song and ruin the moment.

 

“Don't worry Locus. Only way you're getting rid of me is if I lose my usefulness and you pop a bullet right between my eyes. Same goes for you so keep on your toes.” He blew a kiss and forgot entirely about the world of useless figures around them. Forgot to hate and despise them, to worry about what they saw in him or if he would be able to charm his way around them.

 

“I wouldn't shoot you.” Locus commented, adjusting the hold on Felix's hand while his partner all but beamed in the attention. “I'd strangle you.”

 

“Promise?” The rest of the world no longer mattered because he was right here with Locus. Being held in place.  
  


“Promise.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> It is absolutely my head canon that they have a Pomeranian named Cash who Locus tries not to like but actually does because he has a thing for needy prisspots who can fit in his lap and have soft hair
> 
> But who should never be allowed to cook. Ever.
> 
> More coming soon.


End file.
